It is cloudy and misting. The hillside is
very green, with a few small trees and boulders, but mostly it is open.
Sitting atop the hill is a large castle built of damp plain gray stone,
with archers stationed all along the ramparts.

All across the battlefield, two armies are
engaged in a bitter and bloody conflict. Many soldiers have fallen, their
dead and dying bodies scattered across the hillside.

ZOOM TO:

EXT. FOOT OF CASTLE - DAY

Two men are struggling fiercely at the foot of
the castle, their swords connecting again and again while sparks fly from
their blades. Both are breathing heavily, and covered liberally in muck
and blood. The mist drips down their faces, and coats heavy, well-made
armor.

Suddenly, one of them steps back, losing his
footing on the slippery ground. As he flounders, the other soldier sees
his opening and swings his blade with all his might, slicing across the
first man's mid-section and connecting with flesh.

Blood splatters everywhere, as the stricken
man falls to the ground. The soldier still standing raises his sword high
in the air.

SOLDIER

(bellowing loudly)

I've killed Uther Pendragon!

Long live Saxony!

Pendragon rises up on one elbow, grasping his
sword and plunging it into the man's stomach before he falls back to the
ground.

PENDRAGON

(whispering)

And I've killed you, you bastard.

The other soldier's eyes grow wide as he drops
his sword and clutches his midsection with both hands, then falls down
next to Pendragon. Their blood pools together as it starts to rain.

PENDRAGON

(cont’d, eyes closed)

Long live Camelot.

PAN TO:

EXT. ACROSS THE HILLSIDE - DAY

A young soldier comes running across the
battlefield, leaping over boulders and dead bodies. He fights every enemy
that confronts him, leaving more dead soldiers in his wake.

SOLDIER

(yelling)

Father!

He arrives at Pendragon's side and drops to
his knees, cradling Pendragon's head in his lap. He glances at the dead
man next to him and grunts in satisfaction.

SOLDIER

(cont’d)

A king for a king. Good.

Even as he speaks, the Saxon army is
retreating, realizing their leader has fallen as well. The soldier
watches the retreat with tears tracking down his face.

SOLDIER

(cont’d, snarling)

Gone. For now. But they'll

come back… they always do.

He looks up and behind him.

SOLDIER

(cont’d)

Open the gates!

The gates open and he drags Pendragon inside,
before the gates slam closed again, shutting out the noise of the
dwindling battle.

CUT TO:

INT. CASTLE - DAY

It is quiet inside and sparsely decorated,
with only a few torches burning from sconces along the walls of a large
open entry chamber. At one end, a fire blazes in a great fireplace. The
soldier lays Pendragon down on a thick soft rug beside the fire, still
holding his head in his lap and stroking his rain-soaked hair.

SOLDIER

(sobbing quietly)

Oh, father.

Pendragon's eyes flutter open and he smiles
weakly, lifting a trembling hand up and cupping the soldier's cheek. On
his forearm is a tattoo of a dragon.

PENDRAGON

Arthur. There's no face I'd

rather see before I cross over.

ARTHUR

(sniffling)

You mustn't talk like that.

He covers Pendragon's wound with one hand, and
blood oozes between his fingers.

ARTHUR

(cont’d)

You'll live to fight another day.

We will defeat the Saxons.

PENDRAGON

Aye, that we will. But it won't

be me who defeats them.

He covers Arthur's hand with his own. As they
are speaking, a small crowd of soldiers and other castle servants gathers
around the fireplace, standing at a respectful distance to allow father
and son their final moment together. We hear handmaidens weeping.

PENDRAGON

(cont’d)

I charge you with Camelot, Arthur. Go

now, and take Excalibur. The time has

come, and it is yours. You will lead my

army to victory and drive back the Saxons.

Arthur glances over to an alcove, where twin
torches illuminate a large square-cut gray stone. Their light glints off
the hilt of an ornate sword driven deep into its center.

ARTHUR

(confusedly)

Excalibur? But the Lady....

Pendragon grunts in pain.

PENDRAGON

The Lady foretold it. The one who wields

Excalibur will lead my people when I am

gone. You are that one. Go now and

make me proud. I love you, son.

Pendragon's eyes close and his head lolls to
one side, as he breathes his final breath. A shocked gasp arises from the
crowd of onlookers. Arthur weeps and bends over, kissing his father's
forehead.

ARTHUR

(whispering)

I love you too, father.

Arthur gently lays his father's head down on
the carpet and stands, walking resolutely toward Excalibur. He circles
the stone and finally grasps its hilt, looking up at the crowd.

ARTHUR

(cont’d)

For Camelot!

He tugs at the sword, but it won't budge. He
grasps it more firmly and tugs at it again, with the same result. He
moves back a step, spits into his palms and rubs them together. Then he
steps back to Excalibur, ready to try a third time.

ARTHUR

(cont’d, gasping)

What is this?

Arthur peers at the exposed portion of the
blade. On its gleaming silvery surface, he sees a pair of striking blue
eyes, framed by dark hair and bangs.

Arthur’s eyes widen in disbelief.

ARTHUR

(cont’d)

Who is this woman?

He moves away from the sword and walks to the
corner of the alcove, where we see a stand bearing a scrying bowl. He
looks at the surface of the water, drawing a deep breath.

ARTHUR

(cont’d)

I call upon you Viviane, Lady of the

Lake, mistress of Excalibur. I beseech

you, Lady. Grant me now this, my

birthright, to bear Excalibur and drive

the Saxons back from our land.

Slowly, the face of a beautiful woman appears
on the surface of the water.

THE LADY VIVIANE

I'm sorry, Arthur. Another has claimed

Excalibur. Another who yet lives. It is

she, and only she, who can wield

Excalibur. You must find her. She alone

holds the fate of Camelot in her hands.

ARTHUR

But… but Excalibur.

You promised.

Arthur steps back, gathering his wits, then
bends over the bowl again.

ARTHUR

(cont’d)

My Lady, for the love of Camelot, how

shall I find this woman? Where is she?

What is her name and when did she

claim Excalibur without us knowing

of it? I… I don't understand.

THE LADY VIVIANE

She was here some thirty-three

winters ago. As for finding her, that

is up to you, Arthur Pendragon.

Viviane's features begin to grow murky,
rippling on the surface of the water.

ARTHUR

(desperately)

My Lady, no. Please. I need

more information. I beg of you....

It is too late, and Viviane disappears.
Arthur stands and steps into the center of the chamber. He looks up, his
fists clenched at his sides.